


I'll be okay

by tiny_peeps



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Angst, Art, College, Drugs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, FWB, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, High School, Homophobia, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Music, Mutual Pining, Poverty, Racism, Romance, Smut, Violence, lgbtq+, non binary, tw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28890762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiny_peeps/pseuds/tiny_peeps
Summary: You know, it's nice. Letting the music drift you into peace, following the rhythm and letting your feelings take over. Relating to the lyrics when you can't relate to life, relieving honestly, and making the music brings something else entirely to Lance.It's one of those things you can't describe.And that's why he's up on the stage, trying to show everything he's feeling and thinking in one go. All for the boy with messy raven hair, drinking to much on a old bar stool.The guitar did its job and sent waves through Lances fingers and towards the crowd. "I knew I was screwed from the moment that we kissed." The raspy voice pierced the crowd, cheers growing louder. "But, all the pain was worth the momentarily bliss."__Hi, this is (technically) my first fan fiction. So if you cringe, we already have a similarity. Also there is no plan for this story, hehe. Read at your own risk :)*Rated mature - has triggering topics and (may have) sexual content
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 5





	1. shitty letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have suggestions, want to criticize, want something included, or have a story line idea. I'll definitely thank you and consider it!  
> *Every 4-5 chapters I upload/ or just when I have writer's block, I proofread and edit.
> 
> tags will be added throughout the story also :)

_**I guess the only question I have for you is at the end of the day would you hold me or throw me out like garbage?** _

_Dear, Asshat._

_I fucking begged you. You made me beg you like a goddamn idiot._

_Then you said those haunting words._

_For what?_

_Now here I am writing you this shitty letter. While everything that happened runs through my head._

_I should probably stop, save this for later or never finish it, because the tears are staining the page._  
_I'm sure you see the crinkled dots._

_But I have a question. Or had a question at least._

_My question was at first going to be, 'was it worth it?'_  
_then it was 'did you love me? Do you love me?'_  
_or even 'why?'_

_But I can't ask any of those because I know how you would respond._

_The first one would be, 'I don't know, do you?' Like it is the most logical response._

_Then, 'Yes, of course.' a lie. One you let roll of your tongue way too easily._

_And lastly, 'why?' as in you would ask me. Because you don't know how to respond to the 'why' I am asking of you. But it's not like I'm any better 'cause I don't even know the 'why'._

_None of these would be the response I'm looking for, even if I don't know exactly what I'm looking for._

_I, of course have more questions, some I'm scared to hear the response to or even just ask, others are just stupid questions like what's your favorite color- something that I should know by now, and then the rest you would never answer._

_God, I hate you._

_Look at you having a hater at such a young age and you're not even famous._

_But maybe I should thank you. Because with you I realized the saying that, 'you can't love somebody else until you love yourself.' Is complete bullshit._

_But the saying, 'love hurts.' Carries no lies._

_So, thank you, asshat :)_

_And fuck you from none other then, Keith Kogane._

_XXX-XXX-XXXX - new number (text me so my petty ass can yell at you over both call and text then block you)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time uploading on ao3 and I don't exactly know what to do, haha
> 
> -this is the prologue by the wayyy


	2. road trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally updated this, and it is pure shit
> 
> And for the people reading, bookmarking, and leaving a kudo; you're making my heart get butterflies. <3

_family isn't always blood._

two weeks before school*

Driving down a road that you don't know in the suburbs of New York, putting all your trust on the GPS, kind of thrilling and slightly terrifying. But, doing it while your mother yells at you, honestly, isn't fun and makes the terrifying part a little more prominent. And it being 9:36 in the morning doesn't help the intrusive thoughts. 

"Lance, goddammit. Why can't you be _decent_ for once?"

Lance clicked his tongue and gave a small shrug, turning the wheel to merge in the right lane, towards the highway exit. "Well, I haven't had my morning coffee. Could be the reason for this conflict."

Lance's mother, Camilia, really was pretty for her age and that showed while she put her thick hair in a messy bun. The hair in the bun is a bad sign though, an indicator that she is ready for anything, _willing_ for anything. "You know your not funny, right?"

"Ah, shit." Lance paused, causing Camilia to look around the road with slight panic. "There goes my stand-up comedy dream."

Camilia exhaled, her shoulders will never be rid of the tenseness but she still did her best to avoid pulling out a much-needed cigarette. "Don't do that, you'll give me a heart attack." Camilia then started digging in her purse. "You're not going to act like this around your father, right?"

"I have a dad?" Lance gave a look of disbelief towards the 2017 red sedan in front of him, even though the face was for his mom, just the whole road safety thing kind of prevented the full effect.

"Lance, I can't deal with your crap and your fathers. Neither of you ever help keep my patience."

"Well, I am a child. What's his excuse?"

"Lance." A warning came through gritted teeth. "No more."

It was quiet, not a surprise.

Lance took a look in the rearview mirror, a small peak. He was meet with a pair of tired, dull, green, eyes. Leos, his 12 year old nephew. Lance chose to look away, towards his niece, Rosie, looking out the window and holding her doll close. And once again he looked away towards his twin sister, who was focused on listening to everything around her. Face scrunched in worry.

A common sight to see, considering how much Lance and his mom fight. 

But Lance hates it, hates the fact that it is such a common sight. He knows it was never fun to watch a fight transpire and even worse to have to break one up. 

_____

Lance pulled into a gas station, and then looked over at the dashboard. The stereo gave off a low dim of light and read 10 p.m., a reminder of the fact that Lance has been driving since 4 a.m. and has been running on coffee for the past two days. 

Now, the concept of driving from Rochester, New Hampshire all the way to Riverside, California seems rough. And the normal people that roam the earth would prepare for driving for a whole week by sleeping. But Lance likes to think of himself as special because he couldn't fall asleep for more than four hours all last week. 

Before he decided to get out of the car and run into the gas station, he pulled out his phone. The brightness blinded him for a moment because it was all the way up, his face reacted to the sting in his eyes by scrunching together and fumbling to turn down the brightness. 

"What are you doing?" His mom whispered.

The sudden whisper in the dark startled Lance for a moment. "Looking for hotels to stay at tonight." He pulled up Google Maps. Clicking the hotels & motels icon and adjusting the price to $100 maximum.

She nodded, adjusting in her seat. "How much?"

"I don't know yet." He said, scrolling through the list.

She hummed a second passing before a response. "Nothing too expensive and try to find two beds."

"Why? You don't want to share a bed with 4 other kids." Lance huffed a laugh. Scrolling away from a hotel with one bed and in the price range.

"It can get claustrophobic." Camilia turned her head over toward the gas station building. "Do we need gas?"

Lance furrowed his brows in confusion for a moment. "Yeah,"

"Do you want me to run in?"

"Sure, if you want to."

Camilia grabbed her purse. "Do you need anything else?"

Lance breathed out while looking toward the center console. Where his cigarette pack laid. He grabbed it and opened it. "Can you get some M&M's and cigarettes?"

A heavy sigh. "No, I'll get the candy but not the cigarettes."

"What?" Lance looked over at her. "Why?"

"Because those will kill you. And you're a kid."

"I know the risks, mom. I'm also 17 and have been smoking since," Lance leaned back in thought. "I don't know."

"Yeah, I know. I'm the reason for that." Camilia smiled, a little bit of pain in her eyes. "But, Lance I'm trying to quit and I want you to, too. You have an addiction that you shouldn't have. Hell, I've been smoking since I was around twenty but it only got this bad five years ago and you already smoke as much as I did."

Lance stared in silence, turning his eyes back to his phone. Dialing the hotel number to request a room while getting out of the car. "It's fine, I'll go in myself." 

_____

Camilia was rubbing her hands together, something she does when she is craving a cigarette. Staring at the road. "Why can't you just listen to me?"

Lance puffed smoke out the window and flicked the extra ash on the end of his cigarette. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." 

The motel was coming into view and the GPS pointed out for those who don't have eyes. "Take a right at the next opening and you will arrive at your destination."

The motel was obviously old, with rusted paint and everything else that came with old motels. But Lance didn't really care, his mom showed her dislike towards the building with a scrunch of her nose, but didn't voice a complaint. 

Lance and his mom stepped out of the car, still not making conversation unless needed. 

Swinging open the back door to wake the sleeping passengers. 

Which he didn't succeed in. Instead, all of them just cuddling together more and snoring loudly. So, he rolled his sleeves up on his sweater, for no reason other than assuming he might get overheated, and dropped his cigarette on the gravel and put it out with his foot.

He grabbed Rosie first because she was the lightest and closest to the door he opened. Carried her up two flights of stairs, wasn't fun and didn't make him feel excited for the two _heavier_ people he would have to carry also.

Leo and Rachel were around the same height, Rachel was still slightly heavier considering she was 6 years older but both put unnecessary pain in his back. But, if Lance were to complain about something other than having to carry two fat (but not fat just humanly heavy) people, it would be their legs. 

The stairs had metal rods and in between every few slots, their feet would get stuck for a moment, which would tug a little on Lance. Making him stop suddenly and a few times almost fall. He felt like he was in some circus act.

But, thankfully, all of them were sleeping comfortably on the bed with no casualties. He was about to run back down to the car.

Before he could though his mom whispered, "Thank you," And gave a smile. 

Which Lance nodded and said quickly 'no problem.'

He grabbed two backpacks, one filled with shower stuff, and the other had his stuff in it.

Lance opened the drivers' door setting the bags down in front on the ground and taking a seat on the cushion. 

At first, he was just going to sit there. Take a breather, grab the bags his mom forgot to bring up, and lock the car.

Because, no, he didn't want to be a 17 year old already addicted to cigarettes. But he sadly always loved the burn of nicotine on his throat, it's what got him hooked. And that's usually what makes everyone shy away from them, and the fact they kill you. 

The only thing he had to force was convincing himself to put the damn thing away, which didn't happen because the smoke fell out off his lips naturally. Almost to naturally.

He hated that he loved such a useless thing, he hated that he smells the way he remembers his dad smelling. He hated this and that. 

To distract himself from the terrorizing and degrading thoughts in Lance's mind, he sat up propping his elbows on his thighs and pulling out his phone.

Scrolling and opening apps absent-mindedly and searching weird things on google like _'how did bananas get their name'_

And for your knowledge, the word was from the spread of Islam and translated to _fingers of the hand_ in classic Arabic.

Finally, he opened _Instagram._ He's hasn't been on it for the past two weeks or so. Since August 8th to be exact.

Not because he doesn't like the app, he actually does like going on there more than his over apps because he follows a lot of the people from the places he used to live. And it is nice seeing them, regardless of the fact it is a photo on a phone screen and they all basically forgot about him. 

But, instead, because this one post and the comments filled with _'r.i.p baby'_ or, _'you're in a better place now, miss you'_ or just anything along those lines is what bugs him.

A few people he knew once have these types of posts and comments. Which bugs him, of course, but the one that bugged him the most is the one that used the same username on every account he had _'RAYfromOhio'._

A kid Lance met eight years ago, his first best friend, and the only one that still remembered him and texted him as if he still lived in Ohio. Over the years they did meet up ten times and face timed more times than Lance has with everyone else in his life.

-

_Lance was once again the new kid. And in Ohio of all places._

_He's heard the stories of the most boring place on Earth and ironically Lively Elementary was no different._

_He stood in front of his fourth grade class, being forced to introduce himself to a bunch of nose pickers. "Hey, I'm Lance from Georgia." He said while giving a stiff wave and a tilt of his lips._

_Then a kid stood up, loudly._

_Moving his desk forward, crowding the girl that sat in the way of the moving object, and chair backward. Letting them scrape against the floor and leave those black streaks. "Hello, Lance. I'm Ray from Ohio." And then he bowed._

_When he lifted himself back up Lance noticed the gangly built boy had curly raven hair, a toothy smile, deadly brown eyes that shinned and gave a wink, along with a freckled nose a few scrapes falling on his cheeks._

_He was the first person to make Lance chuckle in the most boring place on planet Earth._

_He took his seat next to the boy. And, yes, Ray was entertaining but Lance enjoyed school for many reasons and learning was one of them._

_But, that didn't affect their relationship and instead made it stronger - considering Lance was able to actually convince Ray to do his school work and helped him study. Which leads them to be inseparable and hang out every day, becoming best friends at first sight, if you will._

_Lance has always loved music. From wiggling his butt in his onesies to make his own beat with spoons and a bowl while trying to simultaneously strum the hand-me-down guitar of his._

_But, music class?_

_He will never understand why it's called 'music class'. Considering it never feels like music class._

_Then, one day out of nowhere it turned into a dancing class. The teacher made the whole class get up and pair up to dance, like ball dancing form of dancing. With the whole standing too close to each other, hands on the waist and shoulder, and occasionally twirl._

_And a bunch of fifth graders, who were scared off cooties or crushing on one another, didn't take that well._

_Since Lance was still considered the new kid and a boy, no one would pair up with him. Which Lance didn't mind until the teacher said, "Don't worry, if you don't find someone I'll be your partner."_

_Lance scrambled off quickly and asked half of the class. And, of course, everyone was partnered up already. He was thinking of asking Ray. But, Lance assumed he would say no. Considering the teacher could never get him to actively participate and he instead sat in the corner of the room, watching everything in the room unfold. Sometimes being forced to do something the teacher gave him._

_So, Lance was going to have to suck it up. Watching the teacher approach him looked like his own doom was approaching._

_But (thankfully) before that could happen a hand was held out in front of him and the face belonging to the hand was turned away toward the door of the room. He looked angry, but the blush across his face showed he was just embarrassed._

_A soft mumble, which was weird, considering Ray was always so loud. "Do you wanna dance?"_

_A boy and boy dancing together?_

_How scandalous._

_And it's what leads to the sneaking of kisses, holding hands in the back of the bus, and extra, long, tight hugs when they got the chance._

_It was weird at first._

_Lance was raised by a homophobic dad, and only knew that girls could be with boys and girls; because his sister liked girls - and his sister was his father's princess, his baby, so he figured it was a phase and has only stuck with saying many insults._

_But, boy and boy?_

_No, that's what his dad called 'f*gs'. Along with the boys that wore feminine clothing, make-up, nails, and everything else that could be tied solely for girls._

_So, when Ray kissed him, in Lance's room. Where his dad was downstairs, drinking on the couch. The only logical reaction seemed to be to jump back and wipe his lips._

_Scared, naturally._

_"What are you doing? Did you just," He bent over to whisper his next words. ". . kiss . . me?"_

_Ray stared at him, frowning at the reaction."Yes."_

_Lance paused, confused by the response, he was hoping more for denial. "What?"_

_Ray's eyebrows bent into a confused pose. "What do you mean 'what'? Lance do you know what a crush is?"_

_"Yes! Of course, I do."_

_"Okay. Good." Ray paused, thinking his next words through. "Can I tell you something, then?"_

_Lance shrugged, hoping they were walking away from the whole kissing thing and acting like it never happened. "Sure."_

_"I have a crush on you."_

_Lance turned red, silent for a moment, eyes as wide as saucers and staring at Ray like he had a second head. "Huh?" Lance huffed a laugh. "No, you don't." He started to pick at the sleeve of his shirt._

_Ray looked at Lance for a moment, his eyes watching every move Lance made. "Why do you say that?"_

_"Because," Lance tried to think of a good reason but he could only turn his head toward the window staring as the sun went down._

_"Doesn't your sister like girls?"_

_"Yeah." Lance huffed a breath, his sister has told him the boys can like boys before, but his dad has always said the opposite. "But, that's different."_

_"How? If your family is okay with Veronica liking girls they would be fin-"_

_"They're not," Lance finally looked at Ray. "Shouldn't you get going it's getting late."_

_Ray stopped, confusion was written all over his face._

_Lance sighed, walking over to Ray's bag and collecting all of his stuff. "They think it's a phase."_

_"Wait." The floor suddenly became quite fascinating to Ray. And nothing else came out of his mouth._

_It was quiet for a bit. Only the rustle of Lance stuffing Ray's things in his bag._

_When he walked over to hand Ray his bag, he said what Ray has wanted to hear the whole night. "I like you, too."_

_Ray was calm at first, no reaction, still processing the words. But then a smile appeared on his face and his eyes sparkled. A quiet voice, hoping it heard those words right. "Really?"_

_Lance nodded, looking away with some sass because now he was embarrassed._

_-_

It was hard, getting the news from social media a week after his death. More so how it happened.

Now, Lance's phone screen was starting to fade until it completely shut off. And only then did Lance finally take the last, long drag of his cigarette and put it out.

Grabbing everything, locking the car, and heading back to the room.

_____

Lance wasn't surprised to wake up first and have the room filled with soft snores and the traffic from outside. 

Before he got up and took a shower he sat there for a while, too tired to get up but awake enough to not be able to fall asleep again.

As soon as he walked out of the bathroom with his hair damp and still struggling to pull his shirt over his head, he was greeted with tiny sniffles.

He automatically rushed over to the source of the noise. "Hey, Rosie."

Not bothering to ask what's wrong because he could already smell the fetid liquid covering Rosie's clothing and the space of the bed she was laying on.

Not wanting to embarrass or make her feel worse about the accident. asked in a calm tone. "Do you wanna take your morning bath and do your hair pretty after?"

She gave a small nod, one that could've easily been missed. But Lance caught it and grabbed her hand to lead her to the bathroom.

Rosie wasn't crying as much anymore, only a sniffle here and there along with the occasional wipe of the nose with the back of her hand. And she was no help while Lance stripped her clothes off and set her gently in the tub. 

He grabbed her soap the smelled like strawberries and helped her eczema. Squirting some out on the sponge and handing it to her to wash herself, while he put some on his hand to wash her back. Where most of the eczema is. 

After rinsing all the soap off with water, he moved onto her hair. Which took a minute to get all her hair covered with soap. 

When she was finished and dressed, he kept his word and did her hair. After more than ten minutes of silence, Lance finally felt it was okay to ask. "Do you want McDonald's for breakfast?"

She sniffled and didn't respond. But, Lance knew she did want McDonald's.

Lance decided on doing a simple fishtail braid. Brushing through her hair that was full of knots. Being as careful as he could be, not wanting to hurt her.

And while he was doing her hair, that was crazy thick and long. To top it off she had curls, that she had to use specific products for. To ensure they kept their structure. 

The braid started at the top of her crown and was braided until Lance ran out of hair to braid. Fluffing the fishtail braid to look a little more cute and grabbing a headband that had a pink bow attached to it and setting it atop of her head. 

"Okay." Lance breathed out with a smile. "All finished. Go get your shoes on and we'll get headed."

Which she rushed to go do. 

_____

Entering Illinois has never felt more traumatizing for Lance. And honest to god he was already going batshit crazy, to the point he might have to go to a mental institution after this trip.

The break off the road obviously wasn't long enough, considering Rachel wouldn't stop with the ruthless and unrhythmic pounding on the back of Lance's seat, along with arguing on what to watch; even though she's b l i n d. Then there's Leo with his grumpy attitude and whining about everything and arguing with Rosie about what belongs to who. Along with the accompany of the suitcases in the back swinging. Assaulting each other or the walls, and traffic being shitty was adding flavor to the sauce.

It was a little past midnight when the GPS monotone voice spoke over the speakers. "You are less than a mile from your destination."

Lance flicked the blinker on to turn left on to a foreign street, while Leo rustled in the back. Happy to know his ass will take a long-deserved break from sitting in the same position for over six hours.

"You've arrived." 

It took forever but they made it, their new home. 

Now, while Lance looked over the house that didn't stand out next to the replicas all around it, he wondered how long this would last. As in how long before they move again, or would he be moving out himself. 

Oh, the day he has been dreaming for since he was 6, living on his own, away from his family.

But, now wasn't the time to worry about everything. Now was the time to sleep.


End file.
